Sunglasses in the Snow
by Bobcat Moran
Summary: Well before the events of the Classic series, Blues meets a young graduate student by the name of Mikhail Cossack.
1. Snowed In

**Disclaimer**: Blues and all related characters are property of Capcom. Since I am not Capcom, this means that I am making no money whatsoever off of this.

-o-o-o-

beep-BEEP Mikhail Cossack jerked awake from the half-doze he had fallen into and glanced down at his watch, which had woken him up. 3:00 AM. Great. That meant he had managed barely half an hour of something that only vaguely resembled sleep. He shifted around on the uncomfortable airport terminal chair, trying to find a position where he could fall asleep and _not_ wake up with his neck and back hurting. Ten restless minutes later, he gave up. He got up, ignoring protests from muscles cramped from too long in a chair that seemed to be designed to be as impossible to sleep in as possible. Then he ambled over to the monitors showing departures. Nothing had changed since he last checked. Every flight was flashing "DELAYED" or "CANCELED." _At least the flight to Vladivostok hasn't been outright canceled_, he thought. _Yet._

The weather still hadn't changed, either. As he passed by a TV on this way back to his chair, he caught a glimpse of a newswoman standing outside, bundled up in matching red earmuffs and mittens. She seemed to be having trouble with her hair, which kept being blown in her face, and the camera was shaking slightly as it was hit by snow-laden gusts. A title at the bottom of the screen declared this to be the _Blizzard of the Century_.

Cossack was almost back at his gate when he decided that, since he obviously wasn't going to be able to get any more sleep tonight, he might as well get a cup of coffee and then make some progress revising his thesis.

The quest for a cup of coffee proved to be a much longer one than he thought it would be. Nearly every restaurant, fast food place, or coffee shop seemed to be closed, and the one that he found that was open said they were all out of everything except decaf.

He finally found a vending machine in the next terminal over which promised coffee and hot chocolate. After feeding coins into it and choosing his coffee (French roast, with cream), the machine spat out an upside-down Styrofoam cup, and then proceeded to dribble a watery brown liquid over the cup's bottom. Cossack muttered an illogical statement about the vending machine's mother, and then tried again. This time the machine got the cup out right-side up, but only got a small dribble of coffee in before it sputtered to a stop. He took the cup, looked at the centimeter of coffee in the bottom, glared at the machine, said a few choice phrases in Russian, and then kicked it. The vending machine responded by producing a thin dribble of hot water. With an exasperated sigh, Cossack gave up and headed back towards his gate. He sipped at the coffee. Ugh. Lukewarm.

On his way back, he passed by a nearly empty gate with a boy who had his face pressed to the window, hands cupped around his eyes to cut down on reflections. Surprised to see someone up so late – or was it early – Cossack walked over to see what was out there. Snow whipped across the empty tarmac, and aside from the blinking orange lights of a couple of snowplows, there didn't seem to be much to see. "What's so fascinating out there?" he asked the boy.

_"Nani?" _the boy asked, turning to him. _"Ah, sumimasen.__ Wakarimasendeshita. Nihongo no moojuru o tsukaiteiteshimau. Eigo ga iidarouka?" _There was a slight pause, then, "You were talking in English, right?"

"Er, yes," Cossack said.

"Good, I was hoping I had chosen the right language. I'm sorry, what was it you had asked?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what you were looking at out there."

"The blizzard. I've never seen one before."

"Oh, they're not that big of a deal. Lots of snow, lots of wind, and lots of weatherpeople making it sound like it's a bigger even than it really is. Back home we get storms like this all the time."

"Where's home?" the boy asked.

"Khabarovsk, Russia. I was supposed to be going back yesterday evening, but they stopped letting the planes take off a few minutes before my flight was to leave."

"Russia? So you're not a native speaker of English? You're very good."

"You're not so bad yourself. What was that you were talking in? Chinese or something?"

The boy looked insulted. "It was Japanese. I can't speak Chinese. Nor can I speak Russian, I'm afraid. Just Japanese, English, and German."

"German?"

"Yes. Dr. Wily felt that as long as I was having foreign language modules installed, I might as well learn how to speak German."

"Wait, wait. Installed?"

"Well, yes. I wasn't originally programmed for multiple languages. He and Dr. Light tinker around with me a lot that way."

_Programmed? Installed? What on earth …_ "You … you're a robot?" Cossack asked in disbelief.

"Yes, and you're human. So now that we have that figured out, I guess it's time for a proper introduction." Cossack looked at the robot, confused. Had it just used sarcasm? "I am Blues, prototype model DRN 000," the boy, no, the robot continued. "And you are?"

Cossack blinked. This was a robot? He had heard about these new robots, with AI so advanced that they were actually self-aware, but he'd never expected to actually meet one. He was surprised at how lifelike it was.

"And you are?" Blues repeated, a bit more insistently.

"Oh, um, Mikhail Sergeievich Cossack," he said, trying to remind himself that staring was rude. "Graduate student," he added, feeling that just the name might be inadequate.

The robot reached over and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Cossack."

"Why are you here?" Cossack asked.

"Why am I here? It's a bit early in the morning for philosophy, don't you think?"

"I mean, I thought you couldn't take robots into the cabin since they're supposed to be a security risk."

"Oh, that. Well, I woke up on the flight over from Tokyo. I guess the baggage handlers weren't prepared for a talking crate. Dr. Light got special clearance to let me ride up with him." Blues shoved his sunglasses up on his nose. "I'm not sure if I'll get to do this again, though. Security was hard to get through."

"I thought you said you got special clearance."

"Have you ever tried going through a metal detector with a metal body? Dr. Light said he'd rather stay here than leave and get a hotel room because he didn't want to go through that twice."

"Ah." Now that Cossack looked more closely, he could see that there were a few things that weren't quite normal about Blues. His movements were a bit too regular, and Cossack was willing to bet that the long pants and turtleneck sweater were more for covering up any visible joints than for warmth. He also wore sunglasses. Who wore sunglasses indoors at night? He asked the robot about the shades.

"I guess I've just gotten used to them." Blues shrugged. "It feels weird to not wear them, and my optics can compensate just fine."

"But why wear them in the first place?"

"Obviously because they look good," Blues said, quirking a corner of his mouth up in a sort of half-smile. "Do I need a reason for everything I do?"

"Well, you're a robot. Shouldn't you need some sort of logic check for all your actions?"

"The world isn't always logical. Why should I be?" And as if to prove his point, the robot started whistling. _Whistling_. How on earth was it doing that? This robot was nothing short of a marvel.

An older man who had been asleep in one of the chairs stirred, and then blinked sleepily in Cossack and Blues' direction. "Blues, shush. People are trying to sleep."

"What do you mean 'people,' plural? We're the only ones around," Blues muttered. Cossack did note, however, that the robot stopped whistling.

"That's Doctor Light?" Cossack asked, looking at the man, who seemed to have dropped right back to sleep.

"That's him. Robotics genius extraordinaire."

"Hm. I've read some of his papers. There was one he cowrote with a something-Willy—"

"You mean Doctor Wily?"

"Yes, that sounds more like it. Anyway, the paper was on varying sensory feedback intensity across transistor networks. It wasn't really relevant to what I was looking for at the time, but it was pretty amazing stuff. I'm surprised he isn't better known, with innovations like that – and like you," Cossack added.

"Hmph. Tell that to him. He and Doctor Wily are always trying to make adjustments, always trying to 'improve' me. Doctor Light has some plan to modify my power circuitry when we get back to the lab. My power circuitry's just fine. I don't see why it needs anything done to it. There's absolutely no reason to have to shut me off and poke around in my insides."

"Absolutely no reason at all?" Cossack asked. "But what if it will make you run better? What if –"

"What if I knocked you out, cut you open, messed around with your insides, then sewed you up and you woke up without a clue as to what exactly I had just done?" Blues snapped.

"But that's different," Cossack protested.

"It's not different at all."

"But you're a robot."

"No, really? Gee, thank you ever so much. I hadn't noticed. Wow, you must be a robotics major or something to have figured that out."

There was an awkward pause, and then Cossack tentatively said, "Actually, I am."

"Am what?"

"A robotics major. My graduate thesis is on the mechanics of robotic flight."

Blues seemed to ponder this bit of new information for a second, and then said, "You would probably need some sort of jet propulsion if you want to try flying anything large."

"That's what I initially thought, too, but I've actually had a bit of success building models about this big," Cossack held his hands out, indicating a basketball-sized model, "with a more mechanical basis, using wings that flap like a bird or insect."

Blues was incredulous. "Flapping wings? You're joking, right? Just the armature alone would be so heavy that it would never get off the ground."

"I actually did get a prototype model to fly a bit," Cossack said.

"Oh, really? How far?"

"Two meters."

Blues smirked. "Like I said, it's completely impractical."

"It's only a prototype," Cossack said. "I'm sure that as time goes by, I'll get the bugs worked out and it will become more efficient."

"What are you using for structure?"

"Steel, mostly."

"And you got that off the ground?" Blues said. "With that much weight?"

"Well, that's about all that's within my budget right now."

"If you ever can get more funding," Blues said, "try experimenting with titanium alloys. They're lighter in weight and should be sturdy enough for what you're trying." He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "Why are you even trying to build a flying robot, anyway?"

Cossack launched into a well-rehearsed explanation. "Well, a flying robot could access places a land-based robot couldn't. They could carry payloads over long distances regardless of terrain."

Blues looked skeptical at the rote tone. "So what's the real reason?"

"I think flying stuff is really cool," Cossack muttered.

"I had a feeling that was it. It's nothing to be ashamed of, really. I've always thought that scarves were very cool, myself."

"Scarves?" Cossack asked.

"Yes, scarves. I like the way they blow around in the wind and how they wrap around your neck. I've always wanted one, ever since I first saw someone wearing one."

"Hmph," Cossack replied. This certainly was a unique robot in many ways.

Blues cupped his hands around his face and looked out the window again. "The snow has stopped," he said.

Cossack looked out. "So it has. Good. Maybe that means that they'll start taking off again soon."

As if on cue, an announcer's voice rang through the terminal. "Attention, all passengers. Departures will resume in one hour. Please check the nearest departure board for your flight time. Attention, all passengers …"

Blues looked at Cossack. "I suppose you'll be going back to your gate then?"

"I probably should. Since we were due to take off right after this hit, we'll probably be one of the first flights to take off."

"Well," Blues said, sticking out a hand. "It was nice meeting, you, Mr. Cossack."

"Cossack shook the offered hand. "Likewise, Blues. Maybe we'll meet again someday."

"Perhaps we shall. Good luck with your flying robot."

"Take care of yourself." Cossack waved as he headed back to his gate, knowing full well that he would probably never see the prototype robot again.

-o-o-o-

**Author's Notes**:

If I did this right, the translation of what Blues said was, "What? Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't understand you. I'm using my Japanese module. I wonder if English will work better."

Constructive criticism and other comments are always welcome. I'll do my best to reciprocate any reviews, so long as I'm familiar with a fandom you write for.


	2. Epilogue

**Disclaimer and spoiler warning:** Rockman and all related characters are still property of Capcom. I am still not Capcom, thus, I still do not own them. Some dialogue and pretty much the entire situation is based upon the scenario at the end of Dr. Cossack's fortress in Rockman/Mega Man IV. I don't own that, either.

-o-o-

_Several years later_

The little blue robot was putting up quite the fight. Admittedly, one reason Rockman seemed to be gaining the upper hand in the battle was because Dr. Cossack's heart wasn't really in it. He had to keep reminding himself what he was fighting for. Going up against a national hero certainly hadn't been on his to-do list, but his daughter's life was at stake. That was why he had modified or built from scratch the eight master robots, now all destroyed by this robot who was using his own weapons against him.

This was taking far longer than Cossack had expected. True, a lot of his shots had missed, but Cossack was sure that enough had connected that the robot should be about ready to collapse. Unfortunately, enough of Rockman's shots had hit their mark that Cossack's battle machine wouldn't hold together much longer.

A strange haunting whistle pierced through the sounds of battle.

"Daddy!"

No, it couldn't be … Kalinka?

"Rockman, stop!"

It was. Oh, his little girl …

"Don't hurt him!"

And there she was, standing next to a strange robot. Cossack brought his battle machine down for a landing, only vaguely aware that Rockman had ceased firing. He jumped out and ran over to his daughter, hugging her tightly. "Kalinka, sweetie, are you all right?"

"Yeah. Blues saved me," she said, looking back at the strange robot.

Rockman slowly lowered his buster, and looked back and forth between the Cossacks and the other robot. "What's going on here?" he asked, confused.

As Kalinka explained the situation — how she had been kidnapped by Dr. Wily and how he had then coerced her father into fighting Rockman — Cossack looked at the robot who had saved his daughter. The robot was carrying a shield in one hand, had a yellow scarf wrapped around his neck, and shades obscured his eyes. Shades … Cossack had only ever seen one other robot that wore sunglasses, and Kalinka had called the robot "Blues." But it couldn't be the same robot. That one had gone missing years ago. He was about to try and speak to the robot, to express his gratitude and maybe see if his hunch was correct, when a shriek of rage rang out.

"Blues! You betrayer! I'll get you for this!" Dr. Wily's voice echoed through the chamber. The scarf-wearing robot quickly retreated, teleporting out. Rockman, after hearing the conclusion of Kalinka's story, teleported out as well, presumably going after Wily. Cossack certainly hoped that the blue-armored robot would make it through Wily's defenses and put a stop to that madman once and for all. He also hoped that maybe someday, somehow, he'd run into Blues again and get a chance to thank him for rescuing his daughter.

**_The End_**

-o-o-

**Author's Notes**: Thanks again to my little sister for reading this over, and thanks to Rumorgirl411, RandyPandy, Derek Barona, MekkaBabble, and Galadriel Caskett for reviewing the last part. Reviews, especially constructive criticism, are still very welcome, and the offer of reciprocating reviews still stands.


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